The Road Through Mighty Walls
by Trudyann B
Summary: Even if they never get there, the journey to the basement was perhaps all the three friends needed. (Begins as Eren blocks cannonfire by becoming a titan. Armin-centric, with some shifts in POV.)
1. Chapter 1

Attack On Titan Fanfiction

The Road Through Mighty Walls

By Trudyann B. 

Even if they never get there, the journey to the basement was perhaps all the three friends needed. (Begins as Eren blocks cannonfire by becoming a titan. Armin-centric, with some shifts in POV.)

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  
Hello, everyone! I hope you enjoy this. As long as I am inspired, I will keep writing. If I'm particularly slow to update, I may be most inspired by a review. ;) I appreciate constructive criticism, too. Please note that this story is about a journey, and not a destination, and while I am proud to take on the task of making it a good one, the basement will remain a mystery for as long as Hijami Isayama feels it should be. The story may end at the door of the basement, or sooner, but not through it. With that in mind, enjoy the road!

CHAPTER 1. In Which our Heroes Cross Wall Rose

The cannonfire was still ringing in Armin's ears as he wondered, not for the first time, how he could possibly still be alive. He was sitting, breathing, thinking, and his hear was beating rapidly. He looked at the flowers around him, puzzled at their fortitude. Then, he surveyed Mikasa. She seemed to the rest of the world as un-phased as she would be in a dentist's office, but Armin knew that behind her disinterested expression, her eyes shone with gratitude toward her continued existence, and that of her friends.

A rotting Titan carcass decomposed quickly around them, likening the two to a couple of steamed dumplings in the summer heat. It was a suffocating atmosphere that made it no easier for the panicked young man to breath.

"Mi…Mikasa, what happened?" He asked, eyes wide as saucers. He knew what he thought had happened, but surely it couldn't be right. He must be hallucinating a vision of safety. Perhaps he _was_ dead. But as he gazed at the quickly evaporating ribcage and muscles surrounding him, Armin realized, even after studying his father's anatomy books, he could never really dream this up.

"Eren saved us." Mikasa answered as curtly as she always spoke. A smile played across her lips before disappearing completely. "That's all we need to know."

"Eren…" Armin said under his breath, looking up, around, everywhere. He had seen his best friend emerge out of the body of a violently aberrant titan before, but his mind had constantly refused the idea that he could do it again. It had been a fluke of nature. Eren had mind controlled a titan out of sheer willpower. His was an incredible willpower, after all. But this? This strange body around him had fabricated from the very air.

Eren dropped down from somewhere above. It was difficult to see exactly where he had come from, with all the fog that surrounded them, but Armin guessed that he originated at the neck. He looked exhausted, but the fire in his eyes was unmistakably pissed-off-and-ready-to-rip-someone-a-new-one-for-it.

"We need to escape. Now." Eren said simply. Mikasa stood, and prepared the handles of her maneuver gear. Armin, on the other hand, continued sitting on the floor, flabbergasted.

"What?" The blonde boy's voice was higher than he meant it to be. "Escape into titan territory? How much longer do you think we'll last out there than we will in here?"

"Armin," Eren reasoned, throwing his hand toward the direction of their earlier threat, "I didn't just block a bloody cannonball to sit here and get hit with another one. That officer is an unreasonable asshole who just tried to kill two of my closest friends, and we need to go." Armin opened his mouth, then closed it again. His head was buzzing with a thousand possibilities that might ensure their survival, and a thousand more reasons that leaving the walls was not one of them, but he had no time to think it through.

"I'll protect you, Armin. I'll protect all of us," Mikasa added.

"Hey," Eren butt in, "I can protect myself."

Mikasa politely ignored him. Now was not the time to bring up the fact that the last time she left him alone, he was devoured by a titan. Whether or not he lived was a nonissue when it came to what was really important: not letting him face trouble alone in the first place. "We must leave before the steam clears and they have a clear shot."

"And do what? Waste away until we slip up and get eaten?" Armin fired back. "You're good, Mikasa, but everyone makes mistakes."

"We need to go to my father's basement. You remember the one, Armin. The locked door we always wondered about. I think it will answer a lot of questions for us. Like why I can do this," He motioned toward the body around him, "in the first place, and how to control it to help us win against the titans for good."

Mikasa walked over to Armin and held out a hand to him. "We're not leaving without you." Armin was reminded of the countless times the two had helped him up out of sticky situations with dimwitted but strong bullies in Shinganshina. How was it that he stumbled across such capable and loyal friends?

He took her hand. She pulled him up, as she had so many times in the past, and unhooked the handles of his maneuver gear, pressing them to his palms. He surveyed his friends with unease. Was he really going to follow his friends into almost certain death?

"Reload the cannons!" He heard someone shout.

Yes. He was going to follow them. Better a purposeful death than a meaningless one, he reasoned.

"Eren, get on my back." Mikasa said. Eren groaned, but did as he was told. Armin smiled in self-deprecation, knowing he could never carry someone up a fifty meter wall with maneuver gear. He'd probably be the first of the three to die, but at least he could help as much as possible in the meantime.

Mikasa shot her grappling hooks into the mist above, and flew off, even with someone on her back, she was quicker than a lightning bolt. Armin positioned himself, pressed down on the triggers, which shot out his grapples, and then pulled down on the clutch that sent him flying off the ground. It had taken him much longer than anyone else to learn the coordination he was practicing. He had been desperately afraid of falling. Yet now, he drew in the grapples, got to his maximum height, shot them out again, and then fell two meters in mid air before they connected with a higher point on the wall. He had to admit, it was exhilarating.

He was about twenty-five meters up the wall when the fog got unsettlingly thin. Mikasa and Eren were about ten meters from the top at that same time. The cannon operators had spotted them and swiveled the cannon as quickly as possible to point straight at the two. Of course they were moving too fast to be hit with a cannon, but then, they heard revolver fire. Armin gulped. He was beginning to think we would not get the chance to be helpful at all before he was shot through with a bullet. Tactically, he began zigzagging up the wall. The good news was, soldiers were not trained all too well in revolver fire. Titans weren't fazed by bullets, so most never bothered to become proper marksmen.

Armin glanced up and then stared, petrified at an alarming sight as Eren disentangled himself from Mikasa's back and freefell. It was not a stormy day, yet a bolt of what looked very similar to lightning suddenly sliced through the air, landing straight on Eren. What must have been a fifteen meter class titan was once again fabricated, and a large foot slammed against the wall, only three or four meters below Armin, who fell directly onto it. Once again amazed, he quickly dug his grapples into the calf of his behemoth friend, who was holding onto the top of the wall with a strong, determined grip.

The titan squabbled, his toes digging into the brick. He was able to pull himself up to his shoulders, then his waist, before the cannon fired again. It hit him straight in the ribcage. He yelled ferociously in pain, and crumbled back onto his elbows, but then he was moving upward again, just as stubborn as the human buried below his suboccipitals.

The hip on his uninjured side hiked up to sit on the wall. He then threw his legs over the wall, which dizzied Armin at its speed and arching range of motion. Eren could have been a kid sitting on a fence, if the scale were not terrifyingly gargantuan. From this distance, they already saw three titans. Attracted by Eren's presence. Eren pushed his hips off the wall, and Armin plummeted what must have been thirty meters all at once. The titan's hand still gripped the top of the wall. Armin watched Mikasa jump off of Eren's shoulder and swing down past him on her maneuver gear to the ground below. Armin followed suit. The cannon fired again, strategically aimed this time at Eren's fingertips. The titan flailed in the air, and a little more than twice his body length, before hitting the ground with several cracks. Two of which definitely emanated from his ankles. He then lay, lifeless. Armin and Mikasa flew over to his side. He was on his back, but thankfully the curvature of his neck worked in their favor. Mikasa seemed just a bit hysterical as she pulled out her blades and jabbed into the flesh of his neck, carving in much larger strokes than she might have had to.

"Eren, please be okay!" She yelled. Armin watched, unsure of what to say or do. Had it not been for him, they would have been able to get over the wall so easily. It was his curse. He wasn't just unhelpful, he was ever the problem.

The carcass began to dissipate, and Eren, fell headfirst toward the ground, pulling taught his tendon-like connections to the titan body. He gasped and opened his eyes quickly as he regained consciousness; he looked at his two friends, healthy and safe, and his expression relaxed. His eyes hazed, and fluttered shut again. He fell limp. Mikasa supported his head and body.

"Armin, help me cut him out!" she said. He drew one of his blades and began carving. Soon, their friend was free, and the blood from the operation stained all three of them. It was slow to evaporate. Armin held two fingers to Eren's neck and sighed with relief as he felt a healthy pulse. But when blood began tricking out of the unconscious boy's nostrils, a worrisome expression resurfaced. All around them they heard gigantic footsteps. Mikasa gave her companion a meaningful look.

"You take Eren to that house over there and hide. Clean him up and get him comfortable for when he wakes up. Try to find food and drink. I'll be quick." Should she be as quick as her words, he would see Mikasa again in no time. Armin frowned and nodded. He did not want to leave her alone, but she was much more capable than he, especially without him. He did as he was told. Mikasa grappled to a nearby building and sped off toward the footsteps.

Armin looked back up at the wall, but all signs of the commotion they had escaped were gone. The high command seemed to have approached their situation with a "good riddance" attitude.

Mikasa grappled to a nearby chimney and was soon on a rooftop, surveying her enemies. A five meter to the southwest and a five and three meter class in the western direction. There was a 10 meter class much farther away, but he seems preoccupied, wandering in the opposite direction. She tapped her gas cans, which gave off a tinny confirmation that she had about half of each tank still left. She withdrew some blades from her sheathes. This would be easy.

The solitary five meter was closer, so she zipped over to it. It greeted her by slightly opening its mouth in a wicked grin, its eyes bulging and its lips literally piercing nearly to its ears. What did Mikasa feel when she faced down a Titan? She felt a calm numbness, and the constant and beautifully resilient beating in her veins. She knew what these creatures did to her and her friends, and her species, but a fight was not the place for emotions. Violence was best accomplished with a clear conscience, and clearing her mind to focus was what she specialized in.

As soon as it noticed her, she tested it for its reflexes by zigzagging slightly in her approach. This titan was normal, dull, slow to turn, at least compared to her. Mikasa ran to toward the Titan's right side, but still stayed a safe distance away. She calculated her angle of approach intuitively and shot her right grapple to its temple. Its expression showed no signs of pain. She jumped in a wide arch around its right shoulder. It was turning toward her, but she had expected this and applied the gas to keep a decent height and angle throughout her turn. She then pulled on the clutch on her right sword with such force that her trajectory shot her up right past the nape of the monster's neck. Her momentum was great enough to easily cut through its callus flesh.

Mikasa allowed herself a smirk as she flew threw the air in a high curve. The fall toward the next roof could hurt her if she didn't roll it out. She resheathed her blades and plummeted toward the red tiles of someone's long-forgotten home. Her strong ankles took very little of the impact as she collapsed into a modified roll, careful not to disturb the gear around her waist too roughly. She skidded to a halt back on her feet, expression once again blank as the titan's carcass all but splattered against the cobble road behind her. "Two to go."


	2. Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I worked a lot harder on this chapter than I did the first one. I would still love to work on it for eternity, but sometimes you have to just free the one you love. Enjoy!

CHAPTER 2. In Which One of Our Heroes Once Again Nearly Dies.

Armin heard the clatter of flesh in the distance and presumed that Mikasa had completed a third of the battle. He busied himself, quelling his worries, doing exactly as his friend had instructed. The air inside was as saccharine as a garbage dump. There was definitely food here, but whether any of it was still edible was another matter. The occasional cockroaches, mice or ants were not shy about making their way across the floor and assembling in the tiny kitchenette to Armin's left. In the opposite corner, a table with a bowl of abandoned rotting fruits was against the wall. A chair was pulled out from it, and a sickly brown thing that was probably once a pear sat, half eaten, next to it. Along that same wall was a particularly comfy looking chair with matching footrest. A dusty sofa sat along the adjacent wall, across from the front door. A door next to it most likely lead to some bedrooms and a water closet.

The young man could tell a lot about the family who lived here from their location and the state of their home. For one, they had a lot of money to live so near the second wall, but not enough to live within the second wall. They had traded luxury farther out for simple living here, so they must have been nervous people, some of the few who believed that the Titans could attack, as they did, at any moment. This would probably mean they had a panic room: somewhere to go if they were not allowed into the walls. Armin noticed an area rug in front of the kitchen, and knew immediately where that room was.

After much hauling, he set his friend down on the sofa. The titan blood on both of them was taking care of itself. He stared at the remainder of it for a while, speculating briefly on its composition. Usually, blood would leave sediment as it evaporated, and so much of it would take a long time or a higher temperature. Though there was no doubt that the blood was very hot to the touch, and burned slightly when it came straight from a titan, it was not scalding at the moment, yet it still became one with the air easily, leaving nothing behind. What chemicals could it possible be made of that would allow it to evaporate so evenly? Perhaps it wasn't colloidal, as human blood was? Perhaps it was just one compound or element. Stanger things have happened. He wished he still had his parent's alchemy books, but they were in Shinganshina. The only knowledge he still had was what he and his parents had copied down from their memories after the titans had attacked, and even those writings were inaccessible to him now.

Armin scolded himself. One of the reasons he always got in trouble in the military was that he could not often stay on task. Something as trivial as a flower, the clouds, the arrangement of trees in a forest, or the particularly odd behavior of a certain chipmunk stole his attention all too easily from the grueling but necessary labors of his military training.

Armin was very relieved to see that the plumbing still functioned in this home. He filled three cups of water and then wet a cloth to clean his friend's face. As he approached his friend, his mind once again wandered to the spectacle his friend had made of himself in the past day. Before today, no one had any idea what hope was, and no one could ever guess that some Shinganshina kid from the 104th trainees would be its source. Armin always knew Eren was meant for great things. It was one of the many reasons he was heartbroken when he thought his friend had died saving him. The blonde felt he had nowhere near the potential of either of his childhood friends. Why Eren had bargained his life for Armin was beyond comprehension, to the point where Armin had wanted to smack his deceased friend for his poor strategic choice. Add that to the heartbreak of suddenly losing his closest friend, who had shared his dream of seeing beyond the walls, and defended it even when the whole world looked down on them, and it was no wonder Armin was subject to so much shock, grief and helplessness. Little did he know how Eren's greatest potential would soon be realized.

Yes, this fiery, temperamental, and spirited boy who had stood beside Armin for as long as he could remember, had somehow gained the power to summon a titan body out of thin air and wield it to slay their enemies.

This got him thinking again. If a body like that could just appear so instantaneously. Did that mean that what it was made out of, however much it looked and felt like the flesh and blood of a human, was mostly contrived from elements in the air?

Just touching the wet towel to the young man's face was enough to wake him. Ever focused, he spotted the problem with the scene he had woken to instantaneously.

"Where's Mikasa?" He said quickly, panic evident in his scanning eyes. Another thundering CLUMP of a titan carcass shook the air.

"Does that answer your question?" Armin answered. Eren stood shakily, sand stumbled slightly, cold sweat breaking at his hairline. He held on to Armin's shoulder for support.

"Let me borrow you maneuver gear," Eren commanded his friend, "Someone has to back up Mikasa."

"Eren," Armin protested, "You have to relax and trust her. You're pale and you can hardly stand. You've already used way too much energy. You'd be no use out there." His reasoning was solid, but Eren's stubborn nature proved a valiant adversary. He reached for the release straps on Armin's gear, the blonde jumped back in surprise.

"Calm down!" Armin cried, but Eren continued grabbing for the gear. He was shaky on his feet and seemed a bit green. At this rate, he was going to make himself sick, or fall and hurt himself. It was possible he could black out again. After all, they had no idea what becoming a titan had done to his body. The bloody nose he had gotten suggested some sort of internal stress. Though Eren was woozy, his physical skill was not as suppressed as Armin might have hoped. His grabs were fast and well timed. Armin barely evaded them, and before he knew it, he had dodged right into a wall.

The blonde thought fast as Eren smiled triumphantly, approaching to claim the gear. The table was to his left, the chair and footrest was on his right. He was cornered.

"Okay, okay! Just back up a minute. Here." Armin pulled on his left release strap as he said this. One side of his gear fell and hit the ground. His friend looked grateful as he turned toward Armin's right and reach for the other release strap.

"Thanks, I knew you'd und—" Eren could not finish his sentence, for as he spoke, and the release was within a centimeter of his hands, Armin plowed into Eren's right shoulder, sending the brunette toppling over the footrest and into the chair. If his face could get any greener, it did. Armin strapped his left side gear back on.

"Eren, you would get yourself killed if you went out there, and then what hope does civilization have without a titan on their side?" He threw his hands toward the titan-shifter, and spoke with a reasonable tone, as if he had just mentioned that Eren was lactose intolerant. "If you're really convinced Mikasa needs backup, I'll go help. You need to stay safe until you regain your strength." Eren couldn't get his thoughts together before Armin had already strode out the door with determination in his gait. Then, a single thought pounded through the brunette's dizzy brain. He needed a bucket.

Immediately, Armin regretted this part of his plan. Not more than 10 meters to his left was a 5 meter titan. Sure, it was small in comparison to some others, but that only made the fact that it was probably going to eat him that much worse. Armin did the one thing he could always be relied on to do in the face of humanity's greatest adversary. He froze. His mind went a mile a minute, but his feet stayed planted to the ground. The large face towered over him with an expression that seemed to communicate, "I think I'll have this tasty morsel next."

The titan took a step closer. Armin became very aware of his surroundings. Dusk was approaching. There was a slight breeze. The air smelled crisp and invigorating as if winter would arrive early. He could just barely hear the echoing sound of his best friend being sick in a wastebasket. The titan stepped closer. The ground barely crunched under its large footprint. Worry for Eren flashed through the mortal young man's conscious, before redirecting itself back to the fact that his legs weren't working, Mikasa was nowhere to be found and he was going to be dead very shortly.

A hand wrapped around his midriff, pinning his arms to his sides with impossibly strong fingers. Not again, he thought. Death had been imminent for him so much recently. It was almost normal. Most of Armin's mind was now spent beating himself up for not being able to move a single muscle. The rest was calculating how many near-death experiences he had encountered. Armin was now positioned directly over the Titan's wide gullet. He stared down into his fate. It was a familiar scene. He thought about closing his eyes, but once again, his muscles would not listen.

Armin saw a blur of movement to the right of the titan's head, then to its left. As the Titan let go, its victim fell a lot longer than he should have, and landed on a soft and gushing throat, his knees scraping painfully against hard white teeth. The large eyes of the predator were even glassier than usual and Mikasa was standing to the left of the dead giant. The blades in her hands were red with hot blood. She was the picture of poise and efficiency.

"I told you to stay inside and help Eren," She said bluntly. "If we're going to survive out here, we have to trust each other's strengths."

Armin flushed, embers of his own self-loathing reborn for the hundredth time that day, "Your strengths, you mean." He snapped.

She resheathed her swords and looked him dead in the eyes. "We have to trust our own strengths, too."

To Armin, that sounded a lot like bragging. As she walked toward the house where Eren was probably still sick, Armin simmered angrily, glaring daggers at Mikasa's back as she walked toward their makeshift base. This anger was short lived, however, for as soon as his gaze fell to her hands, he noticed that they were shaking with nerve. Mikasa never bragged unless she was acutely stressed, and she absolutely never outwardly showed nerves, no matter how many titans were surrounding her. Mikasa had always cared about Armin, and he knew that, but he had never before seen such intrinsic evidence, and never before had he been more confused.

"Mikasa!"As she entered the little cottage, she was stunned by an embrace from her brother. She had to get him off her before he noticed her tremors. Her nose wrinkled.

"Eren, you smell like puke." That got him off of her.

"You try turning into a titan and falling off a 50 meter wall and see what it does to you," He defended, poking his sister's forehead.

Armin walked in the door and had to chuckle quietly at what his friend had just said. Eren turned to him. "And you—" he started, pointing an incriminating finger, "Would not have gotten the best of me if I hadn't been so nauseated!"

Armin grinned. The post-near-death-shivers were leaving him faster than they had the last time his life was threatened. Perhaps with enough practice being the damsel in distress, he would be a pro, he thought morbidly.

"What do you mean he got the best of you?" Mikasa inquired. Eren clammed up and flushed. Mikasa looked to Armin, but he only offered a secretive smile, unwilling to supply Eren any more embarrassment than he had already provided himself. Who, after all, would admit to having been physically beaten by the less-than-intimidating young soldier?

"There will probably be food under the rug," the blonde said to change the subject. His friends both surveyed him with confusion at this. "Oh, c'mon, it's pretty obvious." He pulled up the rug and a mass of cockroaches scattered. Eren was the only one to jump in surprise.

Below the dead insects that were left behind was indeed a trap door. When opened, it revealed all sorts of food. Cans and jars of preserved produce and sugared fruits lined the little crawlspace walls, behind which were a few gas canisters fit for 3D maneuver gear.

"Huh, they must have had black market maneuver gear," Armin thought out loud. Unfortunately for Eren, none of the matching gear could be found. The three feasted until they were full, too tired and shaken by the day's events to say much, except the occasional remark that jerky or cheese would be an appreciated addition. They packed for later what they could carry. Armin fought his friends for a while before they agreed that he would take the first night watch, since he was the healthiest and least exhausted of the group. Even so, he could only convince them if he promised to wake everyone if a titan came too close.

The moonrise that night lit his rooftop vigil in the clear summer air. His company included the rustling leaves, the twittering crickets, and the constant and ominous sound of distant feet.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3. In Which Our Heroes are Sent Airborne.

It was well known that the Ranger Corps' mortality rates were shockingly dismal. Over a third died on a good expedition. Therefore, if that statistical average held true, one of them would die and the other would be an amputee of some sort. The best they could hope for was that the amputee was Eren, who could grow back a limb like a tree grew a new leaf. However, the three friends soon noticed that not many titans were actually noticing the three of them at all, and so it seemed there was, in fact, greater safety in lack of numbers.

They set out across Trost on foot, to save their dismal gas supply, and secretly to save Eren the humiliation of having to tag along on someone's back again.

"We'll have to rendezvous with a gas supply tower. I know of one that's not too out of our way, and if we're lucky, we can find some maneuver gear for Eren," Mikasa had said.

"It would also be useful to find horses to carry us and our supplies," Armin added, readjusting the weight of his knapsack on his shoulder. The friends agreed it was a long shot, but that horses would make this trip very much faster. And so, they kept their senses keen for the sight, sound or smell of a mare.

Unfortunately, this was not so easy. Strategically, they had mostly been choosing alleyways for paths, as their enemies could not see, nor smell as quickly among rats, cats, garbage and narrow walls. They were quiet for the rest of the morning, listening to make sure they had not been spotted. It was Eren who broke the silence, when the sun was nearly at its zenith. His cooped up thoughts bubbled out of his mouth.

"Y'know, I could just turn into a titan and run out of here with you guys on my shoulders. We'd get there so much quicker! Plus I could bash a few airheads on my way out!"

Armin rolled his eyes, knowing this conversation had been imminent, "Eren, you don't remember how we found you, but I do. The titans had swarmed you like… like—"

"Flies to poop?" Mikasa provided.

"Yeah, and thanks for the imagery on that one," Armin continued, "It was very difficult for you to fight them all off. You were exhausted and incapacitated by the end of it. Now imagine all the titans in Trost right now, and all the titans within wall Maria, including aberrants, looking up to find a hulking buffet running past them. Do you really think you could handle that?"

Eren was silent for a minute, digesting that information. "Maybe," he finally answered under his breath, but it was in a tone that had admitted slight improbability. His two friends smiled at his spirit, glad to have him back.

They came to the mouth of an alley. Mikasa poked her head out and scanned the wide street. After she gave them the okay, they made a mad dash into another alleyway. A spooked cat jumped away from them, verbalizing the inconvenience they'd caused him with a loud mew.

After they'd settled into their usual rhythm again, Eren piped up, "Why do you think they sensed I was different from any other titan?"

"Maybe they smelled your body odor?" Mikasa joked dryly. Armin acknowledged her with a smirk. She never spoke much, but whenever she did, it was usually either economical or shockingly strange. Eren, quite maturely, stuck out his tongue at her.

"I don't know, but I have a few theories," Armin said to Eren's question, "we've noticed that Titan's rarely acknowledge the actions of other titans, so it probably wasn't your behavior that alerted them. I think it may have something to do with the chemical composition of titans."

"How do you figure?" Eren asked. Armin wasn't sure if he was actually curious or if he was just bored, but Mikasa looked at him with genuine interest, so he continued.

"Well, any reports of titan body parts regard them as being incredibly light but strong, and there's no arguing that when you begin to command a Titan body, it formulates its material from thin air. Does it feel like it's growing from you or coming toward you?"

Eren furrowed his eybrows in recollection. "I can't remember very well. I'm usually focusing on my motive, and a bit on pain," he admitted, absentmindedly surveying his perfectly scarless hand. "But I guess it sorta feels like something's condensing around me." He thought for a bit longer, "like steam on a pot lid."

"I thought so," Armin said. "Perhaps, whatever a titan is made of, it might be a superheated, crystallized form of certain elements in the air. But something has to start that process, and flood that giant body with the energy to support it from a fairly central point." He touched the nape of his own neck as he said this. "Perhaps they can sense that your energy is different from theirs? Or maybe when you're controlling it, you put some part of your own physiology into it." He was silent for a moment, before confessing, "I don't know." If he were honest with himself, it was pure speculation. What did he know about the natural laws? Only what he had been told, what had been discovered by those before him.

"That makes sense," Mikasa said, after having thought it over.

Armin glanced at her. She was looking straight ahead, with her same unquestionable focus on the task at hand, her chin held centimeters above her omnipresent red scarf. He beamed. It was nice to know that he wasn't completely crazy, at least.

They had just reached the mouth of another alley. Mikasa once again peered around the corner, but pulled it back quickly this time. One terrible word exited her, in the flat tone of someone inconvenienced by the lack of milk at the market.

"Aberrant."

"Shit," Eren responded, his entire squad's death and the pain of his own leg being bitten off flickered through his mind. Armin was thinking of a similar word. Eren brought his hand to his mouth. "Let me take him." Vengeance shone from his eyes.

Armin pulled his friend's arm down. "What kind is it, Mikasa?" he asked.

"It's crawling on all fours, probably 4 meter class, unusually focused look in its eyes. It's looking right where we are from about 20 meters away." she reported. Armin exhaled, partially in confirmation, partially to quell his nerves. It came out shaky. He tapped his gas cans. They were nearly full.

"Do you have enough gas?" Mikasa nodded. "Alright. I'm going to book it down the center of the street and grab it's attention. Mikasa, get on it's back as soon as possible and kill it. Eren, if Mikasa misses, then you back her up."

"You could be dead by then!" Eren protested. "Mikasa, are you really going to go along with this?"

Her eyes were determined. She was already visualizing her victory. It would have to be impossible for her to fail. "It's the best plan. Armin can do it, but he needs to be careful," she replied, glancing sidelong at her blonde friend with meaning.

Armin was startled by her conviction. "Right. Uhh, here I go," his voice wavered. He took off his knapsack and left it on the ground. He then closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. He could not afford to freeze again. He tightened all his muscles, and then let them go, testing them for obedience. He took a deep lungful of air and, before he could lose his nerve, ran out into the middle of the street.

The titan instantly saw him. Its expression was twisted and venomous, brows permanently stuck downward. It's unnaturally large mouth showed way too many sharp teeth for Armin's comfort. Looking over into the alley, Eren gave him a confident nod. Mikasa was already almost on the roof. Armin nodded back, turned and ran for his life. He jumped, shooting his grapples and pulling upward. As his feet left the ground, he applied as much gas backward as possible.

Mikasa waited for the behemoth to nearly pass her, and judging its speed, jumped from the rooftop to slay the enemy. Luck, however, was not on her side, and the titan decided at that moment to bound forward, as a dog would chasing a toy that was moving too fast to canter behind.

She landed on the ground and cursed in her mind, already grappling to some houses a few blocks in front of her and lifting off the ground in hot pursuit.

Meanwhile, Armin shot upward at an alarmingly high speed, barely missing his predator's jaws. His heart jumped into his throat at the close call and he almost didn't bring his grapples back in time. He was already above most rooftops, and was listening with amazing discomfort to the stamping of four titan limbs against the ground all too close behind him. His body threatened to freeze once more, but he realized he could keep himself moving, perhaps because he was flying through the air at an invigorating pace, or because he was slightly more afraid of becoming a meaningless blonde omlette on the ground than the inevitable sacrifice to the titans for which he was already mentally prepared. When he shot his grapples again, he aimed for the highest stable part of the rooftops three blocks ahead. He arched down across his ever shortening wires.

Behind him, though he didn't know it, Mikasa was moving even faster and higher than either of them. She spotted a good time in her trajectory to shoot toward the titan, but then notices, as Armin attempted another high arch through the air, that the abberant had slowed, and was preparing to pounce. She cursed under her breath, and arched downward. This would take a lot greater precision than she had anticipated. On her swing back upward, she pulled back her grapples later than she usually would and applied great amounts of gas. She soared into the skies at around the same time as the creature in front of her, but went just a little higher.

Armin, you're going to have to do something extraordinary for me to get there in time, Mikasa thought to herself, and an unwelcome butterfly entered her stomach at the sight before her. One of her closest friends was once again an ever-lessening distance from the mouth of a titan. Mikasa shot toward the center of the back of its skull, and pulled forward. She would cut off its head if it meant saving her friend from the titan's mouth.

Just don't get bitten, she thought.

Something wasn't right, Armin thought, trying to spot places to land another grapple. He quickly realized that his pursuer was no longer making a sound. He turned his head and shifted his eyes just in time to see the permanently angry face no more than eight meters away. His heart threatened to leave him altogether. His muscles tensed, once again ready to give up. However, before they got the chance, a crazy, probably stupid idea popped into his brain. He turned toward the titan in mid air, shot a grapple straight toward its forehead, and pulled.

His feet landed on either side of the titan's nose. The confused monster crossed its eyes and threw its head back, trying to shake him into its mouth as they plummeted from the troposphere. Armin's left foot slipped, but he stayed upright. He didn't see Mikasa come in for the kill, but he could tell when it happened, because the thing went limp and began to fall like a dead duck. Armin pulled away from its forehead, and kicked back around, focusing on how to land safely on the quickly approaching ground. When Armin safely reached the street, the blonde turned to see his friend land a few meters away. Her head was down and her shoulders were shaking. No doubt, this puzzled him. If he didn't know her any better, he would have guessed she was crying. But Mikasa didn't cry about anything, let alone victory. She then threw back her head, and her hair cleared away from her face. Armin saw a genuine smile grace her face and a few giggles exited her mouth before she could calm herself.

"Armin," she said with great amusement, "what the hell was that?!"


End file.
